


Storm Watch

by SaraJaye



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Arnold knew all along, Awkwardness, F/M, Holding Hands, Hurricanes & Typhoons, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Love Confessions, Nervousness, Waiting, sleep cute, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:59:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years into the future, Arnold waits out a tornado at Helga's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm Watch

For all the mess it was on the inside, the Pataki household was sturdy enough on the outside. A tornado was coming, and his grandparents insisted he be somewhere safe in case the boarding house collapsed.

"But what about you guys?" he'd asked. They were going down with the ship if they had to, Grandma insisted, and shooed him out before he could protest further.

Gerald's family had lucked out, they were visiting relatives in Tennessee this weekend. Arnold knew he probably had plenty of other options-Sid, Harold, Nadine, even Rhonda if she were feeling generous. But he found himself standing outside the Patakis' front door, shivering as he felt the warm winds pick up.

When he rang the bell, Helga's mother answered. By now Arnold knew enough about this family to know she was the lesser of two evils.

"Hiii, Arnie. Did Helga forget something at school?"

"Um, no...my grandparents sent me here to wait out the storm," Arnold said, not sure why he was blushing. He'd been inside Helga's house before, it wasn't that big of a deal. "Is that okay? I brought some food, blankets and a flashlight if we need them."

"Ohhhhh. Well, come in, then, I think Helga's doing her homework or something," Mrs. Pataki said. "Can I get you a-"

"Mom, who're you talking- _Arnold!_ " Helga seemed to pop up just then, from wherever she'd been before. "W-what are _you_ doing here, Football Head?!"

"He brought us a bunch of stuff for the tornado, isn't that sweet? I was gonna make him a smoothie."

" _NO!_ Mom, what are you thinking?!" Helga grabbed Arnold's arm, and his blush deepened. "We're _twelve._ "

"Ohhh yeah..." Mrs. Pataki looked embarrassed. "I-I'll go make one...no, maybe I better have a cup of coffee instead. That's what they said at the meeting." And off she stumbled. Helga sighed, eyeing Arnold's bags.

"My grandparents told me to stay here," he said before she could ask anything. "I-I hope that's okay, Gerald's out of town and...well, you're closest to me." A lie, he knew. He could think of at least two other people a shorter distance from the boarding house. Helga looked down, then away, then coughed a little.

"Well, since you're already here with all your stuff you might as well," she muttered. They lugged his bags up to her room, a room he'd seen at least twice before but his heart still hammered at the prospect of stepping into.

They sat in her room, playing cards and watching TV while the power was still on. They made peanut butter sandwiches and had canned fruit for dinner, on their own since Mrs. Pataki was napping in the den and Mr. Pataki was still at work. At some point their movie was interrupted by a weather bulletin, and Arnold realized it was darker and windier than it had been that afternoon.

"We're counting down the minutes until the tornado reaches Hillwood," the weather woman said. Arnold gulped and glanced over towards an unnaturally quiet Helga, and they reached for each other's hands.

"Arnold, i-if we get blown away in the storm, I just wanted to tell you I-"

"Helga." He laced their fingers together, tightening his grip on her hand. "I know."

The weather woman counted down the minutes, the power shorting out just moments before she could announce the last two.

The storm didn't hit until later that night, though, when they'd fallen asleep curled up on the floor of her bedroom, their fingers still locked together.


End file.
